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 Aug 2015 Maria Imran
Et cetera
I take out my old pen
And begin to write to you
Scribbling, pausing, wavering
Of us, and life, and time, and us.

I dip my pen in fairy dust
And write to you
A message
Of two seas meeting, and two breaths mingling,

I dip my pen in time
And write to you
A song
Of slow minutes, long hours, quick heartbeats

I dip my pen in tar
And write to you
An elegy
Of raging pasts and lingering remorse

I dip my pen in water
And write to you
A scroll full
Of doubts and worries;  headless snakes

I dip my pen in blood
And write to you
A promise
Of forever and always

I put my pen away
And sit back, sigh deep, rocking gently
I sign my words in kisses
And cross my heart to you.
 Aug 2015 Maria Imran
Aditi Kumar
I want my words to be beautiful.
Beautiful like yours.
I want to see ordinary things,
Find the magic in them,
And put the magic on a page, for everyone to understand.

I want to have a way with words.
I want every poem of mine
To become a masterpiece.
Just like yours.

I am not broken.

But you are.

You see the world through pain,
And pain makes the colors brighter.
It makes the value of feelings
Climb higher.

Sometimes I wonder
If I should be broken like you
If I want my words to resonate
Like yours.

Sometimes I wonder,
If it will be truly worth it
In the end.

I wonder what it will be like,
To cut myself up to pour out the beauty inside me.

Just like you.

I imagine that you
Raise the blade
Slice your feelings open
And write your masterpiece
In red.
Can only sad people write good poems? Can only broken people find inspiration in anything?
It is my theory
that we are all connected.
From the thread around your finger
to the ribbon on her wrist
and the rope tightened on my neck.
Every action has a consequence,
because when you pull on the string;
*something unravels.
How easy it is to fall in love with the knight in shining armor from the land of words
He will sweep you away on his steed named Promises,
Of appreciation and sincerity
But never forget that his armor will eventually come off

And all that will be left is the man born from the land of dishonesty
Who grew up with men who were
Enemies of integrity and action

His steed, Promises, is fast
he will run away when he feels threatened
When there is nothing left for himself
And he will take the knight, oh knight in shining armor when he goes

He will be long gone before night ends and the moon's light no longer glistens against his armor
He will be just the reflection of a reflection of the Sun
On
a suit of cold steel
That's all he really ever was.
I choose to love the faithful King from the kingdom of the Sun.
.
~~
One day you were waiting
your soul singing,
behind an open window,
in front of a large meadow

For the days long
there you made a love song
that blew me so long
grew our love so strong

where never seen any sad,
even days were not at all bad

If I did a little late
that I never forget,
sometimes you made a huff
but between us there was no gap

..
O, the days have gone
If I do not make any wrong
yet the little robin sings the spring's song,
which I bought through my lifelong

But your silhouette,
doesn't go a little far off yet

With a mystic fate
there a pair of pigeons set
yet trying to mate
just before the last breath
.
..
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
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